The Myriad Creatures
by Rowsdower
Summary: Tatsumi attempts to tie up loose ends.


Yami no Matsuei and all associated characters are property of Matsushita Yoko.  Big thanks to EAG, DWE, and RubyD for their help with prereading and proofreading.

_____________________________________________________________________

The Myriad Creatures

by Cyrus Marriner

"The myriad creatures bear yin on their backs

            and embrace yang in their bosoms

They neutralize these vapors

            and therefore achieve harmony."

- Lao Tzu, _Tao Te Ching_ (5.5-8)

            I watched a shattered, broken man stagger to the top of the hillock, black flames raging behind him.  Even though it was the lightless fury of Touda, he still cast a dark shadow upon the grass.  For a moment, I almost pitied the figure.  But only for a moment.

            His silver hair was disheveled, cast haphazardly across his brow.  His shirt was gone, torn into strips wrapped tightly around his abdominal wound.  The strips were stained dark red with the same blood that marred his perfect white pants.  The force of will he exerted to climb the small hill while so grievously injured almost inspired my respect.

            The man finally arrived at the majestic oak atop the hill that shone brightly with the glow of life.  He collapsed against it and its brightness created a corona around him, life energy flowing over his dull, faded form.  The living breath of the oak caressed him, lulling him into a sense of comfort and safety.  Soon he was wrapped in a cocoon of life: tendrils from the grass reaching up to pull down the glowing blanket provided by the huge, steadfast oak.

            So protected, Muraki slowly lost consciousness, and I withdrew into the shadows to attend to other matters.  I would have a chance to resolve this later.  For now, there were friends who needed my help.

            When I returned to the oak late the next afternoon, Muraki was still there.  He was resting against it, leaning his chin against his hand as he somberly watched the sunset.  This was fortunate, for although I may have been able to track him easily, it was much less troublesome to confront him here.  The shadows were growing long, and the oak was far from prying eyes.  Conflict here would not draw much attention.

            I quickly turned my attention to an approaching figure, a man with long dark hair wearing only a flower-patterned red kimono and a pair of sandals.  Muraki didn't even look at him as he approached and sat down next to him.

            "How did you find me?" Muraki asked, not once taking his gaze from the quickly reddening sunset.

            "Word gets around," Oriya said.  He reached into his sleeve and pulled out his pipe.  His other hand produced a match, which he struck on the tree.  The two sat in silence as Oriya lit his pipe, taking a few puffs to make sure the flame had caught.  He crushed the match in his hand and put the remnants in a small pocket hidden within the folds of his kimono.  The silence continued as both watched the sunset until there was only a blood-red sliver peeking above the trees.

            Oriya pulled the pipe from his mouth and broke the silence.  "What do you plan to do now?"

            "I don't know.  Doubtless I will figure something out soon."

            "Your room at KoKakuRou is always open."

            Oriya took a long drag from his pipe as the two sat in silence.

"Do you know what the Shinigami said after he stabbed me?"  Muraki paused for a moment, as if trying to remember for himself.  I waited for the answer; I had to know what was going through my friend's mind when he made the decision to send himself into oblivion.

            "He said, 'This will be your and my graves.'"

            Oriya remained silent, thoughtfully smoking his pipe.

            "What a pathetic existence," Muraki said.

            That was too much.  It was too soon for me to hear that, and coming from one such as him.  All pretenses of subtlety and planning disappeared right then.  I'd like to think that if it had been another time, I would have been able to restrain myself.  I wouldn't have let my emotions get the best of me.  I doubt it, though.  With those words, this wicked man proved to me, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that he was something besides a man.  He was not to be pitied or shown mercy.

            All he could do was die.

            I stepped out of the darkness I had been hiding in, the long shadow of the oak tree, and summoned several slivers of its shadow to my hand.  They formed tiny pins in my hand.  With a flick of my wrist, all three flew through the air and embedded themselves in the oak tree where Oriya's shadow was cast against it.

            Oriya startled, and turned to draw the sword concealed in his kimono.  However, when he tried to move his arms, he found them frozen in place, as if they were pinned to something.  He opened his mouth to speak, but with a simple hand gesture and quiet incantation his own shadow leapt from the tree and smothered the words before they could escape his mouth.

            I could have killed him, but he wasn't my target.  He hadn't proven he was beyond redemption.  When I looked at him, his aura was subdued, but not colored by the taint of death.  Oriya projected a sense of a man at peace with himself, and that was something that I could respect enough to ensure he remained out of the line of fire.

            "Is something wrong?" Muraki asked.  Before he could turn around, I sent a long tendril out of my shadow and used a quick incantation to turn its yin energy into pure force.  The ground was sundered in a line between him and me, and the full force of the attack caught him in the side, knocking him back several yards.  He was airborne briefly, but quickly landed and managed to stop his roll and come up to his knees.

            Muraki quickly put his hands in front of himself and began casting a spell.  I wasn't about to let him have that.  I made a quick gesture that caused a small splinter of darkness to leap out of Muraki's own shadow.  It was no larger than a pine needle, but it moved from the silhouette before him with such force that it passed straight through his shoulder, coming out the other side with a spurt of blood.

            His concentration lost, Muraki attempted to cast a feeble warding spell with his other arm, trying to buy time to figure out some way to stop my brutal onslaught.  I would have none of it.  I leapt forward and grabbed the casting hand with lightning speed, twisting it sharply until I heard the snap of bones breaking.

            I put my foot on the right side of Muraki's chest, bending him backwards before he could try to get up.  The red spot on his bandages was slowly expanding; I had torn the wound open again.  I pushed forward on Muraki's chest, bending him back even more.  I could tell he must be in pain.  He had a hole through his shoulder, his stab wound was bleeding again, and he had a broken wrist.  But still, he did not cry out.

            "This isn't how the Shinigami normally operate," he said.  I couldn't believe it.  He sounded bemused.  The man was truly one with death if he could stare down an angry Shinigami prepared to bring about his annihilation without anything more than a weak smile and a cold stare.  I reached out my hand and summoned a long, slender blade to my hand from my shadow.  I had nothing but hate in my eyes as I positioned the blade over Muraki's heart, prepared to end his miserable existence.

            "To be brought down by a desk worker from Meifu.  How wonderful."  The hair fell back from over his right eye as I pushed down further on his chest with my foot, and his hideous mechanical eye met the shadows that swirled in my own.

            I smiled at Muraki's realization of the irony.

            Then I plunged the blade into Muraki's chest.

            _To be brought down by a desk worker from Meifu.  How wonderful._

            The next thing I saw was water.  Rain beat upon the umbrella I was holding, a constant patter above my head.  I kept my gaze low as I walked down the street.  I could only see out of my left eye, as my right was covered with a lock of silvery-white hair.  The vision in that eye was strange, too.  It was almost like looking at a computer monitor; if I concentrated, I could see all the individual dots that made up the image I saw.

            Suddenly, I whipped my head around to look down an alley.  A noise had just come from there, and it had almost made me jump.  Something was weighing heavily on my mind, as if I was expecting someone to jump up behind me suddenly and try to take my life.  I paused for a moment and smiled wryly to myself.  I must keep my composure.  Control was necessary.

            I stepped into the alley to look for the source of the noise.  Something grayish darted straight across my path, and I swung the umbrella down to block its path.  It bumped into the makeshift barrier, and fell into a wet puddle when it tried to turn sharply on the wet ground.

            A small gray kitten looked up at me; it was wet, scared, and miserable.  I leaned over to pick it up, feeling sorry for it.  It cringed away from my hand, and I paused for a moment.  "You should be more welcoming to help, little one," I said as I put my umbrella over it.

            Except the voice that said it wasn't mine.  It was Muraki's.

            I became very panicked for a moment.  What was happening?  Had Muraki cast some sort of spell that I hadn't noticed?

            I took a moment to pause, to collect my thoughts.  Panicking served no purpose.  I had to think about this rationally and figure out exactly what had happened.  This was the first step to solving the situation.

            I was almost completely certain that Muraki had cast no spells during our battle.  Also, I couldn't think of any magic that could create an effect like this one without the user noticing.  Well, if the user was at least somewhat competent in the occult arts.  I was very competent.

            In that case, it was most likely that either an outside force had done something, or there had been a reaction in one of my powers.  Oriya may have been a talented swordfighter, but he had no skill in spellcasting.  I could think of nobody who would be able to cast such a spell, and there was nobody who even knew I was here.  Therefore, it came down to a reaction occurring with one of my powers.

            As I mulled that over, I, or perhaps Muraki, had picked up the kitten and placed it in a large pocket inside my long white coat.  I could feel the thing shivering against my chest as I walked.  The poor thing...what had it done to deserve such a cruel existence?

            I shook my head to clear out those thoughts, or at least I tried to.  I seemed to have no control over Muraki's actions, but the thought was enough to get me focused again.  I mentally went through a replay of what had occurred in the combat.  I had made no new uses of my power.

            However, I had pierced Muraki with a sword made from my own life energy.  I had used the sword before, but never had I killed with it.  In fact, I wasn't sure if I had ever slain a man with my shadow powers.

            Now was not a time for such reminiscing, though.  I had to figure out what was going on, and I had to do so quickly.  Every second where I didn't have a mastery of the situation was a second of disadvantage that could be used against me.  Based on my admittedly limited knowledge of the nature of my powers, I realized that I must be channeling Muraki's chi into my body, using the sword as a conduit.  Logically, this would have some sort of side effect, and I supposed it was completely understandable if it manifested as some sort of vision relating to a time when Muraki's chi energies were strong.

            So, it was probably best to sit back and observe the vision.  It would end when Muraki's life essence was completely snuffed out.

            Once I had figured out well enough what was going on, I refocused on what I was seeing through Muraki's eyes.  I was in a small apartment, presumably his.  When I glanced at the nearby window, I noticed the rain was gone and daylight was peeking through the blinds.  Apparently a good bit of time had passed while I was in my contemplation.

            So, this viewing cut out the unimportant parts.  How fortunate for me.

            I--or really Muraki, but the perspective was such that it felt like I was performing the tasks myself--sat down at my desk and began to read something.  I couldn't make out the words, oddly enough, but even if I could have, they weren't my focus.  My head turned to the kitten that had just jumped on the desk next to me and had playfully pounced upon my elbow.

            I smiled slightly.  "I came up with a name for you today, little one."  I leaned back, absently stroking the kitten.

            "I met him in a church.  He has the most beautiful amethyst eyes, but they were tainted with a profound sadness.  All I want to do now is bring him the release I know he prays for every night.

            "He reminds me much of you.  Hurt, scared, and in desperate need of shelter, but the shelter he desires is not one I can provide.  His desired shelter is a shelter from his own heart, something to keep the constant reminders of his own pained flaws away from his thoughts.  I know that he will never find that shelter, though.

            "His only option is escape, and I believe I can bring that to him.  I will release him from his torment, and at the same time I believe he will release me from mine.  We were meant for each other, I believe, and perhaps we shall each be able to provide the other with escape from a tragic existence."

            I paused, and stood.  "You did not come to me for such long speeches though, did you?  Come have a saucer of milk and a warm bed.

            "I will provide you with the succor I cannot provide your namesake."

            _Come and revel in your salvation, Asato-neko, for there are others who will never be able to experience it._

            When Muraki opened his eyes and discovered that he was not yet dead, I was nowhere to be seen.  Still, he was bleeding heavily from a wound that ran from the left side of his chest up to his shoulder, a gash created by a sword turned away from his heart at the last instant.

            Oriya quickly ran up and laid Muraki upon the grass.  "We need to get you to a hospital," he said, quickly tearing off strips of his kimono to bind the wounds.

            Muraki nodded weakly.  I listened from the shadows to his last words before he lost consciousness.

            "I must remember to buy some cat treats after I get out of the hospital."


End file.
